


Don't You Know You're Mine?

by pherryt



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [17]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 1930's brooklyn, Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Caretaker!Bucky, Confessions, Cuddling, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Club, Happy Ending, Jealous!Bucky, Jealousy, M/M, Marking, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Possessive!Bucky, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, References to Period-Typical Homophobia, Smut, Spanking, but nothing bad happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21777013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Steve just wants to forget Bucky for a while, forget what he can't have, what he's too scared to try for. So he finds a club, meets a guy and everything is going according to plan -Until Bucky finds him there.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Other(s), Stucky, implied bucky/others
Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416790
Comments: 16
Kudos: 298
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019





	Don't You Know You're Mine?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wasn't supposed to happen!
> 
> Okay, so, this fic is actually a smaller, side along fic to a much bigger fic THAT I'M NOT EVEN DONE WRITING YET (jesus... what's wrong with me??? I blame Feathers_and_Cigarettes)  
> This event gets referenced in the other fic and suddenly i just had to write it. Like, literally. woke up and there were words i had to write down.
> 
> RESEARCH: I did try to do some research on gay clubs in brooklyn at that time, but didn't get anything too terribly useful for the sake of my fic. So, may not be historically accurate. Though i did actually come across a few pictures - one of a naked bartender and another of men wandering about half dressed - naked from the waist down. So. Um... that.
> 
> BINGO SQUARE FILL: Bucky Barnes Bingo - Spanking: the spanking is light and almost didn't happen at all because, i'm really not into spanking, myself. It won't turn me off a fic i'm reading, but it's really hard for me to write cause it's just not my thing. So I hope this works.

It had taken Steve forever to even find out _about_ this place much less find where it was and what he needed to do to assure entry but he was here now and vibrating out of his skin with excitement, anxiousness, and need.

It was killing him, loving Bucky the way he did, cause Bucky was his best goddamned friend. His only friend, the only _family_ Steve had left, if he was being honest with himself. He couldn’t bare to lose Bucky.

Steve was sure it would destroy him.

He needed an outlet. And fighting just wasn’t enough anymore. Especially when Bucky would step in and save the day, as usual, with that odd, concerned smirk of his that set Steve’s blood on fire.

If only – Steve closed his eyes and took in a breath, almost choking on the smoky air of the room. Someone jostled him and he started moving, walking slowly as he tried to take everything in, tried not to let his jaw drop from his glance around the place.

It wasn’t anything like he expected and yet, at the same time, he could tell with a glance how _different_ it was from the usual clubs and bars he and Bucky frequented.

For one, there were no dames.

For another – Steve couldn’t help but stare even as he tried not to. At the bar, men sat with their drinks and it _looked_ normal on the surface until you realized they were sitting just a little closer than was normal, touching from shoulders to thighs. Sometimes a hand was _on_ a thigh and Steve had to look away, his throat thick.

But looking away was no better when he saw the men dancing – their clothes askew, hands clasped, stepping close or swaying together, swooping in for kisses that left _Steve’s_ stomach swooping with longing.

He couldn’t count the number of times he’d had to force his eyes away from Buck’s lips.

Past that, he couldn’t actually see, his eyes too poor for anything else even if it weren’t dimly lit and mildly smoky, but movement caught his attention and he turned to watch as a man approached. He looked good but he was no Bucky. _Stop that Rogers, you’re here to forget about Bucky for the night._

“You wanna dance, doll?” The word fell off the fella’s lips and Steve almost flinched, doll only reminding him of what he’d come here to forget. He shook his head – both in answer and to get back in the game.

“I ain't so good at dancing,” Steve admitted, looking up through his lashes – all he could _do_ was look up, being at least 2 heads shorter than half the men here.

“Then I'll buy you a drink,” the man said, stepping a little closer with a smile.

Steve hesitated. With all his medical issues, it just wasn’t advisable to drink, or at least, that's what his doctors keep telling him. He’d ignored that piece of advice before and probably will again. He just didn’t see how a drink or two could possibly make his asthma or his eyes any worse than they already were.

Still, he was 80 lbs soaking wet and it didn't take much drinking – Irish reputations be damned – to lay Steve out.

And he definitely didn't want to be drunk if he was gonna get what he came for.

The man crowded a little closer, dark hair curled back around his ears, eyes a darker blue than Bucky’s, skin tan. “Sweetheart, there's only 3 reasons a fella comes here and you've just turned down two of them.” His eyes dropped to Steve’s lips and Steve’s heartbeat ratcheted up. Surely the other fella could hear it?

“Is that right?” Steve drawled with far more confidence than he really felt, plastering a practiced, challenging smirk onto his face.

The man laughed. “God, you're a cocky little punk, aren't ya?”

He leaned forward and his thumb brushed Steve's lip, pulling it down a bit, the tip of his thumb slipping, dipping inside just the tiniest amount. It was small, light, barely anything at all, but Steve's breathing hitched and the man grinned.

“But I think I can help you with that,” he whispered, drawing away, sliding the same hand down to Steve’s shoulder. “Come on back. Let me show you the place. Might be I have something you want.”

He brought Steve around to a dimly lit corner, with a curtain, passing several others on the way – some open, some closed, with movement and sound behind them that set Steve to blushing once more - and sat on the couch there. Steve followed suit, unsure how to proceed.

His nerves must have showed because the man smiled at him gently. “You ever done this before?”

Steve tilted his head defiantly, jaw clenched and working, but was finally forced to admit he hadn't. He shook his head.

“No problem. We'll start you off easy then.”

He patted his leg, encouraging Steve to climb into his lap. Taking a deep breath, Steve did, settling his hands on the fella’s shoulders. Fingers threaded into Steve’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss, lips meeting, a spark of need flashing through him at the light touch.

His eyes fluttered shut with a groan and the man smirked again, deepening the kiss.

He wasn’t Bucky, but Steve could already tell that he’d made the right call.

* * *

Steve had been acting cagey for several weeks now and it was setting Bucky on edge as he ran through the possibilities. Bucky was well attuned to Steve and his coming and goings and recently, he’d started going out more nights than not instead of spending time with Bucky or heading to bed.

What was worse was that Steve was being sneaky about it, waiting till Bucky was asleep, then slipping out.

What the fuck could Steve be doing that he didn’t want Bucky to know?

At first, Bucky thought Steve might have gotten a side job to help with the bills, but no extra money had come in. Then he noted how distracted Steve appeared to be and Bucky wondered if he’d managed to get himself into some kind of new trouble that Bucky had missed.

Steve had been known to hide shit like that before, on account of his goddamned pride and an incident the previous night would have lent some weight to that, except, Stevie had been acting too excited, obviously looking forward to something, for there to have been some trouble.

Not that Steve didn’t appreciate a good fight, from time to time, but he didn’t usually walk away from those unscathed and the marks Bucky had caught sight of…

They weren’t the sort that one got from a fight. They were below the collar, ringed around Steve’s neck like a goddamn necklace, deep, purple bruises. More of the same littered his torso, but before Bucky could get a closer look, Steve had finished buttoning up his shirt as he wandered into the kitchen.

“You’re a peach, Buck,” Steve said, picking up the mug of coffee Bucky had had waiting for him. He drained it quickly and rinsed it off. “Hey, don’t wait up for me tonight. I gotta work late, and then I’ve gotta run an errand.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky said. “So, who’s the dame?”

“What?” Steve said, jerking back. “Who said anything about a dame?”

“Can it, punk. You’ve been pretty damn chipper lately and you don’t think I don’t know a love bit when I see one? Someone’s been marking you up, the kind that makes you smile. You been steppin’ out with someone. Anyone I know?” Bucky tried not to feel jealous. He had no right to feel jealous. And he should want Steve to be happy, for someone else to finally see the man he really was.

What kind of man was Bucky that he was generally better pleased when the double dates crashed and burned?

Steve hesitated, not looking at Bucky as he finally unfroze and reached for his coat. “No, not anyone you know.”

_Then there **was** someone_, Bucky thought, stomach curdling unpleasantly. Breakfast was suddenly off the table and even the coffee was looking to get dumped in the sink.

“Introduce me? Gotta make sure she’s good enough for Steve Rogers,” Bucky said, forcing the words out of lip locked in a smile he was certain looked far more like a grimace.

Steve didn’t notice.

Another blow, that Steve felt so little for Bucky that he didn’t even see how this was tearing him apart from the inside. If Bucky had ever wanted proof that Steven Grant Rogers was never gonna love him back…

This was probably it.

“Fat chance, Buck,” Steve said with a snort. “You’d charm them off before I’d finished the introductions.”

“Hey, not my fault I’m irresistible,” Bucky said, grinning. This, this banter, this was more like Steve, and for a second, everything was right with the world. But then Steve’s smile became a little less real, his eyes changed somehow - dimming, maybe - and Bucky was left gaping when Steve took his leave second later.

Maybe not a dame? What was going _on?_

It worried him throughout the day. And the next, and the one of after that as he tried to carefully monitor Steve’s’ every move, every word. But he came up with nothing. What had Stevie acting so _weird?_

Two weeks later, Bucky was no closer to an answer short of actually following Stevie when he went out at night and Steve _obviously_ didn’t want him along.

But as worried as he was, Bucky couldn’t make himself do it, couldn’t make himself invade Steve’s privacy in that way.

Bucky had invited Steve on double dates but Steve had flat out turned him down and even though Bucky knew Steve had never come along for _him_ , but only as a _favor_ to him, it still felt so much like a rejection that Bucky couldn’t stand it.

The double dates fell through and Bucky didn’t even bother with a plain old regular date. They just weren’t as much fun without Steve around.

Still, Bucky needed to do _something_ , to occupy himself with something that would take his mind off Steve and Steve’s secrets.

From him.

His best friend.

Jesus. What had Bucky done in a past life to deserve this?

Mind half fogged with Steve, Steve, Steve, Bucky found himself making a walk he hadn’t done in a long while. He found the club where he’d left it, remarkably unraided, still running. Despite how long it’d been, he was recognized and let in without a word, just a short nod.

It was, as always, dangerous to be here. And yet, nowhere else had Bucky ever felt completely free to be himself. Sure, he loved the dames, but he loved fellas – and one fella in particular – just as much.

He wondered if his usual playmate was here as he scanned the club, stopping at the bar for a drink. Once he had his drink in hand, Bucky turned and leaned back on the bar with the sort of casual grace that invited people to approach him.

Tonight, the bartender wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing, which seemed to set the mood for the rest of the club. Other men wandered about in various states of undress, while sounds that were less than polite in regular company fell on Bucky’s ears. Looking past the dance floor – which was less dancing and more fondling and grinding – showed more _intense_ acts of carnal pleasure scattered about like little stages, inviting an onlooker to watch or maybe join in.

That’s when Bucky saw it, saw _him,_ and he very nearly stopped breathing.

* * *

The mood of the club was never the same from one night to the next. Some nights it was low-key, with some semblance of privacy, while others had the bartender buck ass naked, men wandering about anywhere from half naked to fully, doing things that had Steve’s eyes round as saucers and would make polite society blush and squawk.

Over the next several weeks, John - the man from the first night - seemed to take Steve in hand, literally, sometimes privately, sometimes publicly. Tonight, Steve was buzzing with a little extra need, a little bit of upset. Bucky had seen the love bites a few weeks ago, as accidental as that had been, and had seemed to take it in stride, had even assumed there was a dame. All like it meant nothing to him.

Nothing he’d said or done in the weeks since gave Steve any other impression and what had he expected? For Bucky to fall to his knees and declare his undying love? Steve had already known how impossible that was, so why had he grown more and more desperate, more and more disappointed, with each passing day?

“Got something new to try, if you want,” John said, “Looks like you need something a little extra tonight.”

Steve nodded. John was good, always seemed to know how to read Steve, to see what he needed and provide it. Tonight was no different in that regard, his idea exciting Steve to no end as he outlined it. Steve's eyes blew wider than he could have believed before nodding eagerly.

He knew he’d need a little more to forget Bucky tonight, the mood he was in, and this sounded perfect.

It wasn't long before he was on his knees, the only thing holding him up were the hands on his hips, the ones in his hair. John had selected a few fellas to take their turns with Steve, his hands tied behind his back and his eyes covered. 

It was strangely exhilarating.

He didn't know how many cocks he'd taken, in his ass or his mouth, before something in the air changed. 

The man currently behind Steve, currently pounding relentlessly into him, slapped his ass, surely leaving red marks, a bright handprint, muttering about how easily he bruised, his grip on Steve's house tight, and – _oh, fuck_ , how would he explain more bruises to Bucky?

The man thrusting in his mouth grunted, stilled and spilled down Steve's throat. He swallowed as best as he could but it was a struggle and his chest heaved a little with the effort.

“Jesus, you’re choking him!” Steve was a little hazy, something more than mere pleasure, but that voice was familiar.

Then the man behind Steve came, pulling out and leaving him dripping and Steve’s thoughts derailed as he whimpered softly.

“It’s okay, doll, I’ve got you,” said John, “Let's give you a reward.”

He untied Steve's arms and pulled him up, pulled him back - _oh ooooh_... John sat, pulling Steve into his lap, down on his cock. Steve fell back onto John's chest as John started thrusting up, hands skimming down Steve's bare skin before closing around his neglected cock. John's lips were teasing at his throat making Steve cry out and then the blindfold was stripped away and Steve saw Bucky watching them, eyes filled with hot anger, hunger and... And hurt.

_Hurt?_

John started whispering to Steve. “That your young man? The one you try to forget? That's Jimmy. Haven't seen him ‘round here in a dog’s age. Doesn't look like he expected to see you here. Don't think things are as hopeless as you thought. Look at him. He can't look away from you.” John punctuated every word with a thrust of his cock, striking deep, a stroke of his hand. Steve breathed hard, unable to tear his eyes from Bucky either.

“B-buck?” the name was ripped out of him against his better judgement and Bucky visibly startled, eyes dragging up and down the length of Steve’s body.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice sounded strange, that same hurt in his face also in his voice.

Not slowing his pace, John’s hips and hands still moving in and over Steve, he continued whispering in steve’s ears.

“I finally get it,” John said, pulling briefly on Steve’s ear with his lips “Jimmy had a type. Once he got his sea legs under him, he almost always went with these tiny, skinny blondes. I think maybe your pining was mutual.”

What?

“I think he was imagining you,” John went on as relentlessly with his words as he did with his hand and dick, pace picking up as Steve breathed hard, eyes wide while he stared at Bucky.

The idea that Bucky imagined fucking Steve, had wanted steve in anyway, had Steve coming hard, stiffening in John’s lap, eyes shuttering closed on a cry. He lay limply as John finished, forcing his eyes open to look at Bucky.

Bucky’s hands were clenched, a muscle in his jaw tight and ticking as he finally seemed to shake off whatever had had him frozen in place. He practically stomped his way over as John helped Steve to his feet.

“Where are your clothes, Steve?” Bucky demanded, his voice a growl.

Steve gaped. “What?”

“Clothes. Now. We’re going home,” Bucky said through clenched teeth. Steve shivered at the tightly held anger, but why was Bucky so angry? He’d come here too, presumably for the same reasons.

He wiped himself down first before dressing and then Bucky nearly dragged him out of the club without even so much as a backward glance at any one else. John smiled at Steve encouragingly as they left and Steve felt relief that John, at least, wasn’t angry.

As soon as they were outside, Bucky dropped his hand like it was on fire and they walked home in silence, Steve casting glances over at Bucky every few feet but Bucks jaw was tense and Steve’s shoulders hunched further in. He knew it was better to wait and talk back in their apartment, knew it was better than to be overheard but it was killing him to wait.

But he was just as silent when they got inside. Steve couldn’t take it anymore.

“Bucky?”

“You’re such an _idiot_ , Steve,” Bucky growled suddenly. “Do you know how _dangerous_ those places can be? Not all the guys that go there… and police raids. Jesus, fuck.” Bucky looked like he wanted to punch a wall.

“What else was I supposed to do, Buck? Go to a _regular_ bar and tell everyone I was lookin’ for a fella?” Steve tossed back. “That’d do me a whole world of good there, wouldn’t it?”

“How’d you even _find_ the place?”

“How’d _you?_ Were you following me?”

“Believe me, pal, if I’d been following you, I’d have found you sooner,” Bucky said, his voice low as he crowded Steve against the door. Steve stared back defiantly, heart in his throat. What did this mean for them now? Had he lost his best friend?

Bucky deflated, closing his eyes. “So, John, he’s been showing you the ropes, I take it?” Bucky asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Steve answered cautiously. How did Bucky know the fellas name? Bucky nodded.

“Good. Johns a good guy. Showed me a thing or two, once upon a time,” he said. “Could have found worse, and I’m glad you didn’t.”

Steve almost stopped breathing. That… that explained a few things and – yes, he’d nearly forgotten, John had called Buck by a different name, but he’d _known_ Bucky. He’d _been_ to the same place before, just apparently not at the same time as Steve until this night.

This conversation was, then, inevitable. And…

“Then why are you angry with me?” Steve demanded.

“Because it wasn’t _me!”_ Bucky shouted. This time his hand _did_ hit the wall and he was breathing hard as he stared down at Steve. Steve couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t possible, was it?

But John, he’d intimated as much, hadn’t he?

Looking up at Bucky, at the hurt – the _hurt –_ in his face, the longing, and Steve suddenly _knew._

Biting his lip, Steve said, “Could be me, if you want, Buck,” he suggested softly, reaching out to palm Bucky’s hip with a shaking hand. “From now on…” Bucky didn’t pull away. “Just…” Steve tugged lightly. “You and me.”

Steve’s heart was pounding in his chest, his throat was raw and his ass sore but fuck, the idea that all this time, that Bucky…

Far from looking happy, Bucky looked pained, eyes shutting as his other hand came up to rest on the other side of Steve’s head, head hanging, caging Steve in. His eyes blinked back open, boring into Steve’s.

“That cause you want _me_ , Stevie, or is it I’m just more convenient?” A shiver ran through Steve and his chest fucking _hurt_ at the vulnerability in Bucky’s voice, the uncertainty of his question.

“Always you, Buck,” Steve said, tears pooling in his eyes. “How could you even _doubt_ that?”

“ _Cause it wasn’t me_ ,” Bucky said plaintively. “You went to that club, instead of me. You’ve been with at least half a dozen guys, that _weren’t me_. You never even…” he took a shuddering breath. “Did it never occur to you…”

“That’s not fair,” Steve said, pushing back. “As long as I’ve been pining after you, if you felt the same, how come you never said a goddamned word instead of all those dates with those dames?”

“Appearances, Stevie,” Bucky said. “Can’t let the wrong people get wind of this.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed sadly. Jesus fuck, but Bucky wasn’t wrong.

Bucky’s eyes closed and he slumped, head falling forward until it hit Steve’s – a gentle, deliberate tap. “Jesus, I hate this, all this hidin’.”

“Don’t have to hide anymore, Buck,” Steve said, laying a trembling hand to Bucky’s cheek, cupping his jaw. Bucky’s head tilted with a small sound, leaning into Steve’s hand. “Not from me, at least.”

His heart was pounding loud enough to beat the band when Bucky’s eyes dragged open, when Bucky turned his head to press his lips on Steve’s palm. Steve’s eyes widened as his breath hitched. Everything felt far too much like a dream. There was no way Bucky felt the same as him, no way Bucky had been in that club tonight, no way he was standing in front of Steve now, crowding him closer against the door.

But his body heat was all too real, the light kisses along Steve’s fingertips too soft to have been anything Steve would have imagined before this.

“Buck,” Steve choked out. “Jesus, tell me this is real an’ I ain’t dreamin’?”

For an answer, Bucky surged forward and captured Steve in a kiss that melted his knees. He clung to Bucky’s shoulders, only his grip and the brace of the door against his back kept him from sliding downward.

Eventually, Bucky pulled back, lips roving over Steve’s jaw, his neck, alternatively gentle and rough. “This real ‘nough for ya?” Bucky asked.

Gasping, Steve rolled his hips up – he didn’t have to go far – and groaned when he felt Bucky’s hardness against his own. “Please, please, Buck, need ya.”

The same desperation seemed to devour Bucky as well. His hands flew down Steve’s body, gripped his ass and pulled up, pulled him against Bucky even as his mouth returned to Steve’s, harder, more demanding. Steve groaned, eagerly following Bucky’s lead, wrapping his legs around Bucky as he pushed away from the wall.

Bucky stumbled towards the shared bedroom and before Steve could process anything, he was laid out on Bucky’s bed with Bucky crouched above him, eyes still staring at him in shocked wonder.

Steve reached up. “C’mon, Buck…” he whined, trying to pull him down. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut for a second before slamming back open.

“Clothes first, Stevie,” Bucky said, slowly unbuttoning Steve’s shirt. “Then we can have our fun.”

“No fair,” Steve said, breathless. “You’ve already seen all o’ me. Wanna see you, Buck.”

“I’m right here, Stevie,” Bucky grinned down at him, sliding the suspenders off Steve’s shoulders slowly. “You can see all you want.”

“Punk,” Steve said, smacking Bucky’s shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Bucky laughed, and the touch of desperation eased a bit, letting Steve breathe a little easier. Then Bucky rocked back on his heels and swiftly divested himself from his clothes and it became just that much harder for Steve to breathe again as he watched Bucky reveal himself, each glorious, naked inch of skin on display for Steve to see.

“You’re beautiful, Buck,” Steve murmured, unable to look away, reaching out to touch, splaying his fingers across Bucky’s chest, tangling in the soft, dark hair there.

Bucky caught him in another, sweet kiss, more gentle now, while his hands finished the work of removing Steve’s shirt. The air in their apartment was generally cool, but Steve was flushed and hot from want, from Bucky’s proximity. He groaned into Bucky’s mouth as Bucky’s hands blindly slid down to his pants and undid them, slowly pushing them down Steve’s legs.

They had to part long enough to finish pulling them off and when Bucky looked back at Steve, his eyes darkened and he growled.

“Buck? What’s wrong?”

“You’re never going back to that club again, you hear me?” Bucky said, scowling at Steve.

Steve looked back at him, perplexed. “I have _you_ now, Buck. I’ve got no reason to go back.”

“Good,” Bucky bit out. “I’m finding I don’t much like sharin’.” His fingers traced over Steve’s collarbones, following a pattern Steve couldn’t discern till he looked down to see the bruises littering his skin.

He flushed. Jesus, Bucky hadn’t just found him in that club, he’d caught him in a compromising position. With multiple men.

He’d watched Steve getting fucked by strangers or near strangers.

Firm resolution hit Bucky’s eyes and then Bucky’s lips were on Steve’s skin, a hot, wet brand following the same trail his fingers had, slowly sucking, darkening each bruise, each little lovebite, leaving Steve gasping and moaning.

Occasionally, he murmured, just loud enough for Steve to hear, his breath tickling Steve’s flesh, raising goosebumps. “Don’t like t’see other men’s claims on ya, doll. Gonna fix that up right and proper. Make ‘em all mine.”

Bucky made his way down Steve’s body, avoiding his cock with a smirk he shot up to Steve. Steve tried to glare back, an effort ruined by the gentle nip to his inner thigh. When Bucky had worked over his front to his satisfaction, he rolled Steve over, then pinned his hips down to keep him from rutting against the blankets.

Steve whimpered. “Yer killin’ me, Buck. Please…”

“Not yet, doll. I ain’t finished wipin’ away those other fellas.” Bucky slapped his ass, not hard, but Steve gasped and pushed up into it. “Jesus. You _do_ like that…” Bucky whispered.

Flushing, Steve buried his face into his arms. Bucky’s fingers kneaded his ass and his voice rumbled against the small of Steve’s back.

“It’s okay, doll, no shame here,” Bucky cooed. “If you like it…”

Bucky dropped several more smacks against his ass in quick succession and Steve gasped and trembled, then keened when Bucky kneaded his flesh once more, crying out when something wet touched his used hole.

“B-b-buck?”

“Hmmm… Gotta clean you out, Stevie. Got all those other fellas comin’ inside ya. Should only be me,” Bucky’s voice was muffled and, oh god, was… was that his tongue, his mouth, on Steve’s hole? Nobody else had done that yet, and… and Steve was suddenly grateful for that, grateful that it was Bucky who got to do it, since he’d denied Bucky so many other firsts between them.

If he’d known… but how could he have?

And the touch was intimate, so much more intimate that Steve could have believed, as Bucky’s tongue thrust in, as he sucked along Steve’s rim. He rocked back into Bucky’s mouth, begging and pleading, but it was a long time before Bucky was satisfied, before Bucky was turning him back over and leaning over Steve.

His hands ran up and down Steve’s legs, kneading his thighs then spreading them wide. He leaned over, kissing Steve hard, then gentle. Steve heard him fumbling with something beside them, heard something slick sliding and then Bucky was ducking around to Steve’s ear.

“Ready, Stevie?” he asked, almost too softly for Steve to hear.

“So ready, Buck,” Steve said. “Please, I – _oh, oh, oh, fuck!”_

Bucky groaned as he pushed inside of Steve, slow but steady and Steve trembled beneath him, fingers clutching at Bucky’s arms, biting at his own lips, keeping his own answering groan at bay.

Fingers pulled at his lips, pulled his bottom lip out of his teeth and Bucky looked at him. “Don’t stay quiet, doll. Wanna hear ya.”

Steve shook his head. “The neighbors’ll hear.”

“Fuck,” Bucky swore, dropping his head to the pillow beside Steve’s. He was trembling beneath Steve’s fingertips, body heaving and, in that instant, Steve finally realized just how affected by this Bucky was. Only in his dreams had he dared imagine Bucky looking at him so tenderly, touching him so reverently, like he was something to be treasured, and Steve still couldn’t believe this was happening.

But it was, it was real, Bucky moving inside him in short, gentle thrusts, each shift pushing him just a little further. Steve was full, so full, their bodies close enough to breathe each other’s air but it wasn’t enough – Steve needed more, needed Bucky closer, deeper, and he almost sobbed, fingers scrabbling at Bucky’s shoulders, legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist trying to pull him down.

“Easy, doll,” Bucky breathed against Steve’s neck. “Easy, Stevie. I got ya.”

“Need you, Buck,” Steve gasped, hips shifting against Bucky where he lay unmoving against Steve, his body pressing Steve down into the mattress. Bucky ran a hand down Steve’s leg, up to his thigh and gripped it, moving his head to meet Steve in a hard kiss. Bucky pulled back, swallowing Steve’s whine – and then his shout as Bucky pressed back in with a sharp snap of his hips.

He moved then, a quick, easy rhythm that had both of them breathing hard and moaning into each other’s mouths. Steve was lost in pleasure, lost in sensation – this was so _different_ from the men at the club. They’d been good, had not left him wanting, had taught him so much but this…

_This_ was on a whole other level and Steve was sure his soul was going to spiral out of his body with the ecstasy of every stroke of Bucky’s cock inside him, every open mouthed kissed pressed along his flesh, at every gentle brush of Bucky’s fingers as they slid across Steve’s skin.

Every whispered word of praise and love.

When Steve came, he was sobbing Bucky’s name.

Bucky didn’t last much longer than that, spilling hotly inside of Steve on a strangled cry, then slumping across Steve. But even then, even exhausted from sex, Bucky still kept Steve’s needs and health in mind, never letting his full body weight crush Steve’s chest.

Steve’s chest was tight anyway, his heart _full_ with all the things Bucky did for him as Steve ran them through his head. Every damn day, Bucky did things for Steve that made Steve’s life a little easier, every damn day, Bucky had his heart on his sleeve and Steve had never even noticed.

They lay like that for a few, long moments, till even Bucky’s arms started to tremble with the effort of holding himself in that way and Bucky groaned, pulling out and sliding off to the side of the narrow bed, reaching for something to wipe them both down with before tucking Steve against his chest and just holding him.

It was glorious in an altogether different way than their recent acts, but now that they were laying still, the cold of the apartment was making itself known. Steve shivered in Bucky’s arms, despite how warm Bucky was and he hated to break the moment, trying to hold off as long as he could.

Bucky was already dozing, Steve thought. He would be too if he weren’t so cold. He tugged at the blankets they lay atop of, unable to budge them due to Bucky’s solid weight, and sighed.

Nuzzling into Steve’s neck, Bucky muttered. “Sleep now, Stevie. Don’t wanna move. Don’t wanna let you go.”

Steve shifted and Bucky’s hands tightened around him. “I’m not leaving, Buck,” Steve said softly. “Jesus, I just got everything I ever wanted, there’s no fucking way I’m leaving.”

Bucky’s eyes dragged open and he smiled at Steve, the look so full of adoration it took Steve’s breath away, but then he shivered again and his teeth chattered and Bucky’s eyes widened.

“Shit, Stevie, why didn’t you say…” he didn’t finish the question, but moved them enough to free the blankets and tucked Steve back under. “Stay here, I’ll get the hot water bottle for your feet.”

“You’re plenty warm, Buck, don’t think I’ll need it,” Steve said, peering up from the cocoon of blankets to where Bucky stood beside the bed, stark naked and completely unabashed by his undressed state.

Shaking his head, Bucky leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek, brushing aside a bit of hair. “Let’s not risk it, all right? Can’t have ya comin’ down sick. I can’t go through another winter like last one,” Bucky said firmly.

Steve shuddered, this time from the unpleasant memory of the near winterlong Pneumonia. He’d been unable to work and funds had been tight, medicine hard to afford. Without Bucky, Steve didn’t think he’d have made it.

“Always takin’ care of me, hey Buck?” Steve asked.

“Of course,” Bucky smiled. “And I always will.”

“Promise?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. There was no way this was a forever deal. Steve was so messed up, Bucky would have to move on eventually. But he wanted to believe… his eyes filled again and he blinked them back angrily.

Bucky slid to his knees beside the bed, cupping Steve’s face between both of his hands. “Promise, Stevie. Jesus, I promise on my mama’s grave, okay? I love you. Always have, always will. Now that I know we can have this – “ he stroked one hand over Steve’s cheek, “In whatever way we’re allowed, I’m going to do my _damdnest_ to keep you. If my, uh, jealousy earlier hadn’t shown just how much I want you.”

“You love me?” Steve breathed.

“Yeah, I do, you damn punk,” Bucky said with a light laugh before biting at his lip and staring at Steve, a new wariness to his face. Why would he – oh!

“I love you too, Buck,” Steve said, watching the joy bloom over Bucky’s features. “Now hurry up and get back in the damn bed so I can cuddle with you.”

Bucky laughed, kissing Steve breathless. “So demanding, Rogers,” he said when he finally pulled away. He left Steve there, all warm and bundled up and returned shortly with the promised hot water bottle, pushing it under the blankets towards Steve’s feet before climbing in himself.

Before long, Steve was pleasantly warm and deliriously happy, tucked safe and sound in Bucky’s arms as he drifted off to sleep, while dreams of their happy future danced around in his head.

He’d thought his love of Bucky hopeless and he’d been proven wrong. What else did their future together hold?

Only good things, Steve was sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Rebloggable [ Tumblr link](https://pherryt.tumblr.com/post/189641473681/dont-you-know-youre-mine-marvel-pre-war)


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